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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28574136">Every Morning</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FinallyAutumn/pseuds/FinallyAutumn'>FinallyAutumn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon Lives (Merlin), Canon Divergence, Gen, Mini-Fic, Post-Finale, behold the sadness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:34:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,196</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28574136</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FinallyAutumn/pseuds/FinallyAutumn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin wakes up. Where or when, he is going to find out now.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Merlin &amp; Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Every Morning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>"My god the years have passed me by<br/>Where was I hiding<br/>I've been around the world for some time<br/>It's oblivious now"</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Merlin woke up rested but confused. This wasn't his bed. Alarmingly, he thought the room vaguely resembled the room that once belonged to... to... some lady he used to know.  But with so many different things. It had been restored with luxurious fabrics on the walls, to keep it warm, the furniture seemed expensive, there were wonderful books, and an alchemic set on a desk, under the window. On one of the richly carved wooden stands of the canopy there was a sheet of paper pinned by a thin nail. </p><p> </p><p>"Good morning. Everything is fine. Your name is MERlin. You are in the Kingdom of Camelot, you live in the Castle of Camelot. These are your chambers. --&gt;"</p><p> </p><p>It said, with a little painted arrow at the end. Merlin looked at his right. There was another sheet of paper pinned on the wall above the desk. He got out of bed, nervousness rising, and read:</p><p> </p><p>"Have your breakfast."</p><p> </p><p>There was a silver tray full of delicious food. Somebody must have entered the room to bring that in, but they didn't wake him up. Merlin looked at the desk but couldn't think of a use for any of the utensils he saw there. His mind was blank. He realized, however, that there were other little light-blue sheets of paper attached to the walls in a circular way, from left to right. They weren't just randomly attached, but carefully fixed with golden hooks and red or yellow ribbons on the elegant walls. </p><p> </p><p>"You are the Court Warlock, Council member and a physician."</p><p> </p><p>Merlin thought: My name is Merlin. I'm a warlock? Physician... physician... he knew another physician right? .. But who? He couldn't place the name. And how did he get to LIVE in the King's castle...? He took a step to the right, another little sheet of paper written with neat, elegant brettonic font:</p><p> </p><p>"You live here because you are a dear friend of the King, Arthur Pendragon. This is your home."</p><p> </p><p>The name didn't say anything to him. His memory vaguely provided the idea of a blond head, under the sun. And with another step to the right:</p><p> </p><p>"If Mordred came to your mind: dismiss: the King has survived the Battle of Camlann." </p><p> </p><p>But Merlin didn't know what a Mordred was. Or what Camlann was. Nothing.<br/>
A smaller, newer piece of paper attached to the 'mordred paper' read:</p><p> </p><p>"Today it is the 21st of March." </p><p> </p><p>Walking circularly, around the room Merlin had arrived to a splendid oval mirror, which managed to be sober but opulent at the same time. It had just the simple oval shape on the lower half;
 but around the top half there was a relief in pure gold depicting some perfect figurines. The scene wasn't clear, though: it looked like people in armour, with a man that had something coming out of his hands, some of them were waving flags too. With maybe ...dragon insignia on them?<br/>
Merlin only had a vague, instinctive idea that in the mirror there should be someone with a mop of black hair and pale skin...but it was just the shadow of a memory, so he just stepped up in front of the mirror, and almost jumped back:<br/>
there was an old man, with long white hair and a long white beard, whom he didn't recognize. His heart was beating fast, now, and he rapidly looked at the side of the mirror. There was a sheet of parchment that clearly was more important than the others: it was cast in a frame, written in an even clearer calligraphy, and written with blue, red and golden inks:</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, you are old, Merlin. And I am too. (By the way, would you consider shaving your beard?)<br/>
Do not be afraid. You suffer from an illness that is taking away your memory.<br/>
However, even if your brain is very human, your magic is the most goddess-given powerful thing in this world.<br/>
Here below there is the spell for getting all your memories back. Until tomorrow.<br/>
--Arthur."</p><p> </p><p>Below the nice signature from his mysterious benefactor there was an arrow pointing down, and on the console below the mirror there was a book, open at the page of what Merlin supposed was a spell and indications,<br/>
and some powder in a little cup. The page was reassuring to him, for some reason. Nothing else was on that perfectly clean console.<br/>
Despite the Pendragon asked him not to be afraid, he was. Very much. What if this illness would take away more and more of his memories? Did he remember who Mordred was the other mornings?<br/>
What if he woke up tomorrow and he didn't know what a physician is? What a warlock is? What a spell is? What a king is?</p><p>What if he woke up one morning and he didn't know how to read anymore?</p><p>He started cold-sweating and trying to calm down, reminding himself that at least there were people (..servants?) getting in his room. That probably there were people willing to help. He looked down to the only reassuring and truly familiar thing: the spell book. He positioned himself in front of it, like a sailor about to put in the water the lifeboat attached to his damaged ship during a terrible storm. 
But there was one last sheet of paper more on the right. This one looked written by a less cultured hand, but not ignorant at all: </p><p> </p><p>"His Majesty, King Arthur Pendragon, has today ridden out in the forest, accompanying the younger hunters in order to tutor them.<br/>
His Majesty will be back at the castle before the evening.<br/>
With the servants' best regards, o Merlin Emrys."</p><p> </p><p>Merlin looked out of the window. In the distance he could vaguely see there was a thick dark forest on the horizon. It looked beautiful, but no matter how much he squinted, Merlin didn't recognize it. He liked it, though.<br/>
Even from here, it felt very much alive and healthy.<br/>
So this Arthur was in that forest with a squadron of young hunters and probably falconers. The forest would not hurt him.<br/>
Wait, how did he know this?<br/>
Merlin threw himself at the book again, and read the spell, executing the instructions written on the margin; a sudden flame burned out the powder. </p><p>He stood immobile for a moment, in silence, and then he stopped worrying about himself and exploded in exasperation for Arthur.</p><p>"Oh! Oh FINE! The old toad thinks he can leave me to sleep, and go into the forest without me? It's a miracle that he can ride without falling asleep on the saddle!! Hunt!<br/>
Yes, sure: having a picnic more like! And without me! At the beginning of springtime! He knows I like the forest more in this time of the year! He did it on purpose; he has clearly run out of things that make me angry, the damn jester!"<br/>
While having his rant, Merlin washed himself, dressed, combed his hair and beard, grabbed some bread from the tray, and stomped out of the room, still complaining,<br/>
his words dying out in the corridor, and covered by some nearer giggling of a couple of young servants.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>...the real reason why Arthur asked everyone to let Merlin sleep is in the lyrics of the song<br/>that inspired the fic: "Every Morning" by The Cranberries:</p><p>"It does not bare a great disguise<br/>Happy birthday, baby, happy birthday"</p></blockquote></div></div>
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